History Repeating
by thaliagrace04
Summary: The Trojan War wasn't the only thing Chaos stirred up; it's starting up all over again. And this time, Percy and his friends aren't about to be spared when history repeats itself. "Let the games begin, heroes."
1. Prologue

**Bonjour, peoples. I had this really great idea (in my head it was great) for a new story, so I'm posting on here to see if you guys think I should continue. I really hope you like this, because I worked sUPER hard on it, and even edited it, like, TWICE. And I usually never edit anything. Yeah, it's just that special. **

**I'm actually using one of my OC's from my other story, Olympian Gold. It's kind of a bad story, so I thought I could redeem her by sticking her in here! Yay! Okay, party's over. **

**Story time!**

**Disclaimer: I, in no way, own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, because how in the world could all that awesomeness be restricted to ONE person? Okay, cut Rick out of the picture aND THIS MAKES perfect sense ;)**

"Hm. . ." Chaos peered into her oracle, her shining sphere instantly adjusting its view according to the dark goddess's desires. "It's becoming awfully dull up there, don't you think, my pets? Chaos might just have to shake things up a bit," she purred.

A golden apple materialized in front of the goddess, its shining light illuminating the dark recesses of one of the many deep pits of Tartarus. The striking goddess snatched up the apple, tossing it back and forth between her smooth, pale hands. She froze and clenched her fist with the apple in it, so that the golden light was snuffed out, escaping only in tiny slivers between her long, elegant fingers.

"Yes. . ." she murmured. "Yes, that just might work. But who? Who shall be a pawn of my scheme?"

A servant, her highest-ranking, hesitantly stepped through the shimmering gauze that separated his mistress' throne from the rest of the room, scattered with her servants and many demonic pets. He knelt quickly before her, touching his forehead reverently against the floor; his mistress' golden gaze sent chills down his spine. The servant mumbled something, but it was muffled, for his head was still against the ground in a deep bow.

"Stand up, you imbecile! Are you talking to me or the floor?" She demanded rather harshly of her servant.

"N-No, my lady."

"'No' what? You weren't speaking to me? Whom were you addressing, then?" She'd had it up the here with her quaking little slave. Why couldn't he do anything right? _I should feed him to my darling kraken as dinner, _she mused. _He hasn't terrorized anyone as of late, now that I think about it. . . ._

"F-Forgive me, m-my lady. I was indeed talking to your chaotic-ness—"

"Don't try and flatter your way out of this—"

"—I was just suggesting that a mortal hero would be best to carry out your plans. I had no intention of upsetting my mistress—"

The goddess narrowed her eyes and with a wave of the dainty hands cut him off. Her voice cut through the tension emanating from the figure—now cowering a little ways away from the goddess' dais—like it was butter. "Do you think me an imbecile, slave?" Her icy tone matched that of the River Lethe's cold currents. "Of course the pieces in my little game would be godlings. I cannot use mortals or gods, fool. It must be someone with enough knowledge of the Olympians to make this Candy Land adventure interesting. Of course, I could always use you. . . ."

At this idle threat the goddess' servant blanched and widened his eyes until it looked as if they would pop right out of his head and roll away into the unknown.

His mistress continued, pleased at seeing his fearful reaction to her words. "But I will not, because of the unending _mercy_," she spat the word as is she wanted to rid her mouth of its taste, "of my heart. You have proved useful in the past; it would be wise to consider doing so in the future. And in that case, I suggest you listen to every word that comes out of my mouth, young one. If you do not, I will punish you so severely you will think Kronos' punishment equivalent to time-out."

The words were not yelled, but said with a completely calm tone by their owner. The servant was now visibly shaking with horror and undisguised fear, which seemed to satisfy the goddess.

"You are dismissed, you worthless piece of junk. I do not want to lay my eyes on you until you quit shaking like a girl."

After her servant scurried pathetically out of the room, the goddess reclined on the golden throne that so well matched her calculating eyes and mapped out the rest of her plans.

Yes, she had it all l figured out now. She just needed one more major detail taken care of.

She needed demigods.

They must be strong, both physically and mentally. They had to look the part of Greek heroes. She leaned forward, cupping her handing around the glass ball that was her oracle, her mirror into the outside world. Her spy.

"Camp Half Blood," she murmured almost silently to herself. "That is where I will find my pawns. And they cannot say no."

Her oracle roamed the hills and fields that made up the stronghold of godlings. She spied on just about every demigod residing at the little hero hideout, though none were to her liking. Some, too strong. Others, too weak. Her gaze shifted to the lake, and interest parked inside her as she spotted two girls lounging by the shore, obviously waiting for something—or rather, some_one_. Just then, she knew she found them. Because at that moment, two figures emerged from the water and both were completely dry.

And that was when she knew her she was looking at. She'd heard all about them. Who hadn't? Percy Jackson and Stephanie Raymond. And their little friends? Well, that was a no-brainer. Annabeth Chase and Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

Two children of the Sea God. Athena's favorite daughter. And finally, _the _Oracle. The Oracle at Delphi. Apollo's pretty little prophetess.

Bingo. She had hit the jackpot. She smiled her sultry, dark smile at no one.

"Let the games begin, heroes."

**Please review and let me know what you think, I really appreciate it. Don't let all my hard work go to waste!**

**And before you go all monkey on me and start accusing "There's only one oracle! How can Eris have one too? You're just making stuff up!"**

**Well, yeah, you're probably right. So, in this story, each of the gods has their own oracle (it's pretty much a clear sphere of glass), which is kind of their window into the mortal world. Apollo has two, I guess, in a way. The glass one, and the Rachel Elizabeth Dare one.**

**So, yeah, now that that's explained...**

**Au revoir, darlings!**

**ThaliaGrace04**


	2. Chapter 1

**Yesterday I noticed some mistakes in this chapter, so that's the reason some of you may have gotten an alert for a new chapter. Ha, I wish i could get another one up that fast.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the PJO series. All rights go to Rick.**

"Annabeth, do you feel that?"

Annabeth shifted so that she was no longer staring out at the blue ocean, and gave her boyfriend a quizzical look. "Feel what?"

He looked away, shrugging dismissively. "I don't know . . . I just feel like something bad is going to happen. Something big."

And something did.

. . . .

"Rachel? Rachel! Rachel, what do you see?"

The distraught daughter of Poseidon was panicking as a certain redhead stared of into the distance with a glassy look in her eyes. She know Rachel was having a visor, but it still freaked her out to see her friend go as unresponsive and still as she was now.

Stephanie tightly gripped Rachel's shoulders and began steering her towards the Poseidon cabin. Rachel had had plenty of visions before this one, and none of them - so far -had caused an apocalypse, though some had come close, Stephanie though with a shiver. No need to worry Chiron over nothing.

Little did she know, she wouldn't be seeing Chiron, or anyone else at camp, for a long, long time.

. . . .

"I need to find Steph," Percy decided. She's his little sister. He had to make sure she was alright - not in some comatose state brought on by one of the Hypnos or Morpheus kids. She just loves messing with them, he sighed. His awful feeling kept nagging at him to _do_ something.

Annabeth peered at her boyfriend for a moment before giving him a slight nod of agreement. The duo trudged up a sand dune and headed towards camp. The sun was still in the middle of setting on the horizon.

_Jeez, Apollo, stop being so dang lazy, _Percy thought to himself as the giant glowing orb continued its agonizingly slow descent in the sky. Thunder rumbled overhead and Annabeth tossed Percy an exasperated look.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What?" he asked innocently.

"You know what, moron."

He rolled his eyes. By now the daughter of Athena was far too used to his knack for pissing of the gods to provoke him any farther. She chose not to pursue the matter of what he said or thought; considering she was worried about the 'omen' Percy seemed to be so distracted by. Annabeth was starting to feel queasy, and it wasn't the taco from dinner talking.

"What? No retaliation today, Seaweed Brain?" taunted the blonde, trying to lighten the mood. "Getting tired, are we?"

"I just . . . I just _know _something really, really bad is going to happen really soon, Annabeth. And the feeling won't go away." Percy furrowed his brow at his own words, like he wasn't expected it to come out that way.

Annabeth's lips pressed together. "Let's find Stephanie and Rachel—maybe she had a vision."

They checked everywhere; the lake, Steph's usual hang-out, then moved on to the Oracle's cave when they didn't find her there—no luck in the caves, either. Without even so much as a word both started for Cabin 3. That was the next place Steph would lounge around at. The girl was pretty predictable in that way.

Annabeth, with Percy at her heels, burst into the cabin without bothering to knock. As usual, the salty scent reminded her of so much. _Now is not the time, Annabeth, _she silently chastised herself.

"Steph, thank gods we found you. We—Rachel!" The daughter of Athena stopped short as soon as she caught sight of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, sitting on Steph's bunk with her head in her hands. The host of the Oracle, in all of her glorified wisdom, just groaned in response. As she looked up at her friends, they each stepped back in shock.

Steph hissed at what she saw.

The Oracle's spirit had never had this effect on its host, as far as they knew. Rachel's eyes were a shade of red so bright it rivaled her hair; her lips were the color of blood. She looked like a ghoul made flesh and blood with her gray skin and red features. "I had an awful vision, and now my head hurts like hell. Can someone please get me some _water?_"

The sound of her voice was scratchy and shallow. It sounded like it had taken all of her effort not to fall over after they scraped out of her throat. The son of Poseidon quickly made his way down the hall to the bathroom to get some water as his girlfriend took control of the situation—naturally.

"Rachel, what did you see? Was there some sort of prophecy?"

The voice that spoke up didn't belong to the girl addressed. Rather, it came from the unusually pale girl standing next to Rachel.

"Annabeth, I – we were just hanging out in the arena when all of a sudden she went into a trance," Steph explained. "I brought her back here, but only recently she got this bad. I've . . . I've never seen her like this before."

The blonde had a troubled look on her face. She had never heard of this happening to any of the Oracles before—no glowing serpent eyes, no awful, doomsday prophecy. For once in her life, Annabeth Chase didn't know the answer. Not yet, that is. She was just as clueless as the rest of them for now. Thankfully she was spared from responding to the daughter of Poseidon, because Percy chose then to return with a tall glass of cool water in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other.

Unfortunately, that was also when Rachel's moaning started up again.

"Uh . . . Horrible vision . . . Danger . . . Goddess . . . Have to . . . . "

Annabeth's eyebrows scrunched together as she questioned Rachel frantically, "Rachel, can you hear me? What goddess do you see?"

"I couldn't see! She was a goddess of darkness—"

The blonde put her hands on Rachel's shoulders in an attempt to calm her. "I need you to remember."

"I can't remember!" The hysterical girl exploded at Annabeth. "Too painful. . . . It hurts so much. . . ."

"Rachel, I'm not trying to hurt you, I just need you to tell me everything you saw, heard, or know. Please," she prompted softly.

"Percy stepped in, saying, "Here—drink some water and put the washcloth on your forehead, Rach. It'll help."

Rachel accepted them form Percy gratefully and closed her blood-tinted eyes. "I . . . all I saw was dark nothingness at first. It was so strange. And then I heard . . . a . . . a voice out of nowhere. It talked about a war . . . I can't remember which goddess, but the voice was totally giving of the goddess vibe, y'know?"

She paused. "And . . . I saw me . . . in a jail cell, and Annabeth—you were wearing a Greek chiton at the top of an ancient-looking wall, looking down. And Steph . . . You were—were begging him for something, begging him not to do it. But Percy, oh, Percy—"

She broke off and started sobbing uncontrollably on the bunk she was sitting on. The other two girls glanced from the over-emotional Oracle to the sickly pale Son of Poseidon standing rigid as a stone wall.

"Annabeth, that feeling I had this morning, it was an omen or something, wasn't it? Something horrible is about to happen to all of us soon," Percy stressed.

Annabeth just looked at him with a grim expression.

"I know, Percy."

By know Stephanie was completely silent, her silence second only to the Fields of Asphodel, barely daring to breathe, let alone speak out loud. But know she spoke, albeit quietly.

"Why does everything bad always happen to you guys? And why have I been dragged into all of it lately?"

Before anyone else could say anything, a different, silky voice spoke out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

"Now, darling, don't think like that. You'll wrinkle prematurely, and dear old _Aphrodite_ wouldn't want that, now would she?"

Suddenly the shadows around them seemed to grow and become more distinct and inky than before. The room they were standing in slowly gave into the darkness, disappearing completely. Soon the four of them were suspended in the blackness, just as Rachel's vision had suggested. Except this time, a figure emerged from the gloom.

"It means you're special, darling. Fun. _Entertaining."_

A tall, shapely woman appeared, her long dark hair writhing around her as if suspended underwater. Her cold golden eyes drew the attention away from her pale olive complexion and made it seem even more sun-deprived.

"Oh, no," Annabeth murmured. "This cannot end well."

"Dear, why ever would you think that?" The woman taunted sarcastically.

"You're—"

"Who are you?" Percy cut in. That earned him a disapproving glare from Annabeth and a weary look from Rachel. His sister merely pulled her eyebrows together and pressed her pink lips together, knowing his girlfriend was just about to answer what they were all wanting to ask.

The woman quirked one dark, elegant eyebrow at the young man.

"You see, young Perseus, that's just it."

"Uh. . . . What?"

Steph wasn't the only with a befuddled look on her face for the moment.

"No one knows who I am anymore. They have forgotten me. Mortals and demigods alike no longer fear me, when they used to cower in terror at my very presence. Only the gods lounging about on Olympus remember Chaos, though they do not welcome me as their own."

Her eyes flashed. "I am shunned; exiled. Do you see a cabin at this wretched camp devoted to _me, _when even that powerless goddess of _law_ has one of her own? And do you know _why?_"

The goddess's eyes were sparking with her fury; the air surrounding her was thick with her unseen power waiting to be unleashed on some poor innocent soul.

"Percy, she's Eris, goddess of chaos and discord. She's evil, the cause of the Trojan War," Annabeth explained.

"Well, kudos to you, daughter of Athena. I can always count on your kind to recognize me for who I am and what I am capable of."

Annabeth hesitated. _Your kind?_

Eris smirked at the trembling Oracle. "You recognize me, Oracle of Delphi. Always have, always will."

Percy shook his head. "Wait a minute—I thought Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena caused the war," he said. "Well, mostly Aphrodite with the whole Paris/Helen thing, y'know?" The Son of Poseidon amended quickly after seeing the look on Annabeth's face referring to his remark about her mother.

Eris growled at his statement, and then replaced it with a smug look, like she knew something she didn't. "Yes, well, _you_ would think that, wouldn't you? And that's my point exactly, but it depends on your view of the whole escapade. Who didn't invite me—but did every other god and goddess—to their child's celebration? The royal family. Who rolled the apple into the three goddess' midst? Yours truly. Who offered Helen as a reward to Paris for choosing her? Aphrodite.

She paused, suddenly having a cruel, yet mischievous glint in her golden eyes as she locked her gaze on the Son of Poseidon. "But, then again, who _accepted_ Helen as his wife and named Aphrodite the fairest?" chuckled.

"You would know, Perseus."

Rachel responded, "But how would Percy know? Why not Annabeth? She knows everything—she's basically a walking encyclopedia."

Annabeth scoffed and rolled her eyes. Obviously she didn't know _everything_ if she didn't know why a powerful goddess such as Eris was here in Percy's cabin picking on a bunch of demigods.

"How could one so knowledgeable at the same time be so **naïve?"**

**Rachel pursed her lips at the goddess's words. She was not naïve! She was the Oracle of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo. She was not some little girl people could mess with.**

**Chaos just smiled and simply said, "Deep down, you all know what I'm talking about."**

**The darkness surrounding the five silhouettes began to coil around the goddess as she slowly dissipated. Her disembodied voiced tinkled with dark laughter and crooned, "But, just so you can all remember, we're going to play a game. Don't worry; it will be fun—for me."**

**The dark shadows engulfed the four, cutting of their weak protests.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey, you guys. Sorry for such a long wait - I'm such a huge procrastinator. Anywaay, the reason I took so long is because I'm still getting into the swing of things at school (yeah, it really takes 3+ months to get into it ;]) and because I'm just reeaally lazy.**

**Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it was kind of weird to write :)**

**Bambi**

"Princess! Oh, Princess, please wake up!"

Annabeth woke to the sound of someone muttering anxiously. Her eyes flutter open but shut almost immediately as she groaned. The person gasped.

"Oh, Princess, you are alright! Oh, thank you, Almighty."

_Almighty? _Annabeth thought. _I've never heard the gods called that before._

She had yet to register her head and body lying limp against a cold stone floor. When she did, she jerked up into a sitting position, narrowly avoiding colliding heads with a mocha-skinned girl hovering anxiously over Annabeth. The girl, no older than Annabeth, put her dainty hand to her chest as if she had just suffered from a severe heart attack. The lines etched into her face smoothed with relief as her almond—shaped eyes opened to look at Annabeth.

"My lady, you gave me quite the scare. Oh, praise the One you are alright." The girl bowed her head with reverence.

"The one? What one?"

"Never mind that, Princess. Please, let your humble servant help you to the bed so that you may rest." The stunning girl's eyes filled with sincere concern as she implored Annabeth.

Annabeth was extremely perplexed. "Princess? What are you talking about? I need to find Percy," she stated briskly, brimming with irritation and confusion.

Annabeth took advantage of the girl's bewildered silence to look around. _Where am I?_ She was surrounded by beautiful stones, marble, and other treasures of gold and ivory.

"What's your name?" Annabeth asked, looking back at the girl. She was younger than Annabeth, though not by much. The servant looked around fourteen or fifteen. The girl pursed her lips at Annabeth's question.

"Princess, are you feeling alright? I am your head maidservant Zara."

"Maidservant—oh, um, yes. I'm so sorry, Zara, but I'm afraid I just . . . fell faint for a moment." Annabeth paused and squinted at Zara. "Would you mind reminding me what is was I was doing before?"

Zara smiled softly and offered both hands to Annabeth and hoisted her to her feet. "Oh, it is no problem, my lady. I was readying you for tonight's feast with Lord Paris and the rest of the royal family," she explained in a feathery voice.

_Paris?_

The servant girl continued on, saying, "I could always inform them of your ill state, my lady. I am quite sure His Majesty the King would understand."

Annabeth sucked in a steadying breath. "Would you mind giving me a moment to compose myself? I'll be just a second."

Zara didn't look pleased at her mistress's suggestion, but bowed hastily and retreated through majestic wooden doors just the same.

Annabeth put a hand to her head. She had a vague sense of déjà vu, like she'd been here before. She had to find Percy before she did anything reckless. _But, then again, I am a princess, am I not? _she thought sarcastically. _Now, just _which _princess am I?_

She turned to see if there was a basin of water or bowl of some sort—and froze. Annabeth was looking at someone she'd recognize from any Greek painting.

"Oh, no," she breathed. "This cannot be what Eris meant."

She was looking at the familiar reflection of herself, but the girl looking back at her was nowhere near being Annabeth Chase. She had the same basic features, but what caught her eyes was her hair—or, more specifically, the thing nestled _in_ her hair. There, sitting atop Annabeth's golden curls, was a diadem. And not just any diadem—no, this was the diadem that, in ancient times, was worn by the heir to the Spartan throne.

Annabeth was wearing the diadem that last belonged to Helen of Sparta.

Better known as Helen of Troy.

"Zara?" Annabeth called weakly. She heard a creak and the light taps of sandaled feet on a marble floor.

Zara's image appeared behind Annabeth in the gilded mirror. The servant girl bowed and met Annabeth's gaze with her own. "Yes, my lady?"

"Fetch me some water, please."

Zara bowed once more and turned to fulfill her mistress's wish. "Of course."

The daughter of Athena looked once more at her reflection, not believing her eyes. She was Helen of Troy. She certainly looked the part, she supposed. She still had her golden blonde hair, falling in a soft mixture of loose curls and waves to her waist, though it was now a paler, lighter blonde than what she was accustomed to. Her eyes took in her tanner-than-usual and flawless skin, set off by the silky Greek chiton she wore. The edge of a gauzy-silk veil was held in place by the sparkling diadem.

_I wonder . . . _she mused. Annabeth shifted ever-so-slightly toward the mirror.

Annabeth blinked. Her eyes. Yes, her eyes. . . .

They were similar, but still not the exact shade of gray so commonly associated with children of the wisdom goddess. Oh, Annabeth's eyes still had specks of gray, alright, but now held a tint of blue she'd only ever seen in a select few people.

_No. . . ._

She turned, abandoning her image in a frenzy. She tripped over herself in her hurry to reach the door, knocking over a vase, stopping as she heard the "clank" of the vase rebounding against the floor. Annabeth bit her lip and gasped in both pain and realization as she released her lip with a smack.

Relief flooded through her. If she was here . . . then everyone else had to be. Eris was too clever to make such an obvious mistake as having witnesses to her "rolling of the dice." Percy, Stephanie, and Rachel had to be here too, she resolved firmly.

She took calming breaths and rested her palms and forehead against the cool mahogany of her enormous door.

"But who are they?" she mumbled in a distraught tone. "I don't know where to start looking for them—"

She shut her eyes and shook her head minutely. What was she doing? She was Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena! She was hero and official architect of Olympus. She could handle one goddess of chaos and one of her little "games." She just needed to find the other players.

Annabeth slipped through one of the doors and found herself in a large commons area, a mini-oasis occupying the center. Doors equally as large as hers stood tall on 2 other walls, an archway leading to who-knows-where on the other, forming a perfect square. The wall will the lone archway was lined with beautiful and priceless statues made from gold, ivory, marble and others fabulous materials the architectural part of Annabeth's brain recognized.

"Hello?" she called. "Zara?"

No answer. Annabeth pursed her lips and moved to appear down the dank hallway.

"My lady, you called?"

Annabeth gave a small squeak and whirled toward the sound of her maid's soft voice. "Oh! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The girl's eyes creased at the edges with almost an adoring smile. "My apologies, Lady Helen—"

_So_, Annabeth thought, _I was right._

"—for my intention was not to frighten you." She bowed her head and offered a small chalice to Annabeth with both hands. "Your water, my lady. I had a . . . run-in with Princess Cassandra. She was having another one of her fits."

Zara held out the water once more to Annabeth, who took it with a murmur of thanks. After downing the cool liquid with relief, she gratefully returned it to Zara.

Something Zara said before snagged at Annabeth's memory. The servant girl had said something about another princess—Cassandra? Annabeth struggled to remember what Cassandra's relationship with Helen had been. Oh—Cassandra had been one of many older sisters to Paris, Annabeth remembered. How many sisters did that guy have, anyway?

She looked to Zara. The girl was waiting, silent. With a start, it occurred to Annabeth that Zara was probably waiting obediently to be dismissed or given another order from her mistress.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Zara. I was having another moment of mine," Annabeth stated with a weak laugh. "Actually, though, I was wondering if you could backtrack and take me to Cassandra. I, um, need to ask a favor of her."

Zara bowed to Annabeth and replied with another "yes, my lady," and led the demigod-turned-ancient-princess through the archway, which, Annabeth found, wasn't so dank and dark after all. The hall was bursting with activity and light.

Annabeth couldn't help but feel sympathetic for Zara—she was probably a slave, captured and taken from her home and family at a young age as a result of war. Never having a life of her own, never being able to voice her opinions. . . . Annabeth shuddered inwardly. She couldn't begin to imagine it.

"Zara, if you don't mind my asking, where are you from originally?" Annabeth inquired of her guide.

Zara turned her head to glance at Annabeth over her shoulder.

"Oh, my lady, I do not remember what it is they call themselves. All I know is the faith I grew up with. It is the only thing I remember of home. My faith in the One is the only thing I remember of my people." She paused. "I am not a pagan. I worship only the Almighty, the one whose name no one is worthy to speak, lest their tongue be cut out and tossed to the fires of Hell."

Oh. Harsh. This girl is obviously a Jew, though. One of the enslaved Israelites Annabeth learned about from reading her stepmom's battered old Bible.

Shaking out of her daze long enough to notice almost every person she passed bowing to her, Annabeth said, "You're a Jew, and Israelite. Your people worship one god only,"

"Yes, my lady."

"That stuff about 'Almighty' and the 'One' make so much more sense now. Thank the gods." Annabeth laughed a genuine, real laugh. "I thought I was losing it."

"Losing what?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes and her lips quirked at the edges. "Never mind."

**So . . . what'cha think? I know this isnt't uber long or anythings, but this was a full 10 pages when i wrote it out, and I was going to add more just "on the spot" but I'm a lazy person, remember? I'm not nice like that.**

**So, review and tell me what you thought! I don't care if they're mean or nice or just constructive criticism, as long as you tell me what you think I'm doing wrong/right!**

**Love and Feathers always!**

**Bambi**


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